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| july 2013 |
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| Birthday | 1:04am monday, 29th july |
It was surreal, this year, to have a birthday. I remember going through it and wondering what it was supposed to be. Was it too normal? Did I travel too far, in the past year, for me to recognize this mortal life again? — not like this. What was I supposed to feel? What was I supposed to do? I was supposed to be special that day, but this type of thing, do we take it so very seriously? I’m a year older: yes, that was the crux of it. But that I was alive at all, should we not celebrate this every day? Maybe in a sober joy. My birthday: it built up, it came, it went. Perhaps there is nothing there to understand, at all. Just be in whatever moment fortune has decided you are to ride. Sometimes drive.
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| drop | 1:38am thursday, 25th july |
to drop into the lap of love
dance within the secret life of flowers
like angels on the head of a pin
and to have within your grasp a mastery of life
(we give concern to the fashion of ephemeral troubles)
have you not heard? what is the Good News?
the best story wins
and the pieces do fit together
we cut no corners
it’s made to crack at the edges
what tune is it in the susurrus atmosphere of the Movie?
i know, for one, luck is no beggar
to have fashioned my own very hands
as i waltz with a burning one
i have been meant to dip in the gravity of it all
my number dropped in her lap
and the story brushes aside all anxious first moves
the best story wins
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| My Book | 12:01am sunday, 21st july |
This is what I’m thinking its description will be, on Amazon:
What happens if you’ve been drafted into the War in Heaven? A war between angels? You have no idea what that actually means... Philip K. Dick might have understood what was going on, this sense of the world at large: for one thing, because he was there — and then there is an important dash of Tolkien thrown in (which acts like leaven and makes the whole thing rise up). And there’s a twist: what if you find out that just everything and life makes complete sense? Really? And there’s Joan of Arc, and true love. That’s what this book is about. Plus some ideas about Judas Iscariot (yes, that Judas) in the mix, a pinch of salt indeed. We ask, “Give us this day our daily bread,” but remember, “Man does not live by bread alone.” This book is that bread that is not bread.
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| restless | 12:01am wednesday, 17th july |
i desire something small and sweet
all these numbers have secret properties and whispers
the demon’s keeper strangely silent
to await my more restless nature to get things done
we mark how we are changed by beauty
we are electric in the purified energy of all sacrifices
now is home calling: i have seen it
the chamber within my imagination where i am free
the structure of love in the sunlight
like a dreaming where the numbers combine strangely
to bring about the beginning of all things
never an afterthought in the supply of days, on and on
where shall justice enter the system?
and permeate the courses of good and evil in truth?
i have followed until the road ended
then i went on my way through the wilderness beyond
i found light and darkness in my walking
blazed a trail in crayon for all the children to follow
i desire something small and sweet
the numbers do add up, i found: i tell you, they know
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| Iron to Gold | 12:14am saturday, 13th july |
Our Lord Jesus Christ is also known in the book of Revelation as the Lamb slain at the foundation of the world. Even though this was only two thousand years ago that it happened. One might see that that was the turning point of all history: this is the sacrifice that ended all sacrifice, ended the Age of Iron. And all that that Age entailed. And as Christ was two days in the belly of darkness, below, so did the world enter the dark ages for two thousand years — for a thousand years is as a day to God. We just now are awakening, just now entering the new age, the Age of Gold — itself to last from 30 to 50 thousand years… And only then will come the End of Days...
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| jeanne d’arc 2 | 12:26am tuesday, 9th july |
i write the secrets of the universe on a gum wrapper
just a couple lines
light that starts above a dewdrop
to glance the water’s edge
so now is the victory in the tune like a casual passenger
you must have imagined something like the melody
there in the forest of your wandering heart
climbing trees and blessing leaves
earth’s holy daughter
on the precipice of a dream
emerging from a bath of pain spotless
bright blessed moon, cry of glee
the joy erupting from within our bones
the rays of light breaching the corners of our eyes
we emerge from nothing fully clothed, like angels
for in your eyes is love true
my rose
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| Double Time | 12:15am friday, 5th july |
In my notes, which I took while the War in Heaven was going on, I have two sets of entries for the same time period on January 7. I thought maybe one was earlier, or the other was later, but I also have notes from January 6 and January 8. WTH? Was I in some sort of time warp or a passenger on an astral plane shift? This is like the Ghostbusters are telling me, “You have been a participant in the biggest interdimensional cross rip since the Tunguska blast of 1909!” Do I actually have a record of some sort of interplanar journey? I know that back when I was doing acid regularly, I had instances that are not easily explained — unless I were not actually in the earthly airs during such times. Occam’s Razor states that the simplest explanation is probably correct: I probably had the wrong date for one or the other. It’s so weird, though, I could have sworn that I had read the date from the iPad at all times. I don’t think I was guessing in either set of cases… I dunno. It’s just weird.
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| jeanne d’arc | 1:09am monday, 1st july |
crescendo
i have wondered at the pattern of the leaves
the voices of the rain, so lonely
what have you seen, angel eye? what have you tasted?
we can meet in the skies
before the trees can greet the precipitation
when we are before the God of impossible destinies
to breathe unknown sensations
the mountain rising into the third heaven
the air of haloes slipping the light from their brims
in a dream i flew into your castle
the scent of crushed wildflowers was everywhere
and time was a strange rhythm
like we were meant to dance forever
we forgot all the magic we used to get to this place
because you know, love is the greater art
and i don’t know if you remember
how they tried to end you
smoke upon which your eagle feather rose
opening the book of the neverending tale
and a greater fire lit all the world
that rendered the Maid cast into a thousand statues
that could not speak your name without honor
here, where the clouds splinter
where the atmosphere can only dream higher
hearken, all you creatures!
we have known an immortal heart
we have seen the beginning of a new heaven
the dream to devour the whole of earth
never now to wonder how new a halo is struck
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